Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note... Never have and I never will...its quite sad...

To Handle with Kid Gloves

Chapter 1: Labels

...

-To Handle with Kid Gloves means to treat very gently.

Life was all about the ups and downs, the good and the bad, the rich and the poor, the smart and the dumb, the socially accepted and the socially rejected. The normal and the freaks. The virgin and the whore, the gentleman and the play boy. We all get labeled, even when we don't want to be.

We're put into different groups with different people, all because we 'fit' in with that group when in reality we could never fit in. it could be true that people alike are more likely to get along, but that is rare. Not everybody enjoys being in the same group with people just like you. No. it would be utterly dull.

But this is how life works. There is nothing we can do about it. Well there is, but nobody cares to even try. We all hide away to fit in with society, to do what society says and to make society happy. But are we ourselves happy? No. We're not. We're miserable on the inside. But we put up a happy front to keep from others knowing about our pain.

…

-12 o'clock midnight

One slash. 'Why can't anyone else see that I'm in pain? Why does it hurt so much?'

-12:02

Three slashes. 'Why am I so alone? Am I hated that much?'

-12:05

Nine slashes. One, soft, laugh. He stood there, alone and sad, yet smiling. Sickened by the blood oozing down his arm. Sickened by his life. Darkness engulfed the room, with a dead silence that left him no choice but to think about his pain. But tomorrow would be different, wouldn't it? He'd be happy, smiling and laughing.

But for what? He wasn't going to be really happy, everything was a lie. Something he knew all too well. But it wasn't like they would ever know. He wouldn't let them. He wouldn't let anybody. Nobody needed to know about his pain. It was something that he'd keep to himself.

Not that anybody would really care about his pain anyway. He was nothing to them, he never was and he never will be. It was something that he had no control over but something he wished wasn't true. But he knew that he'd never get what he wished for. Life didn't work like that, at least not for him anyway.

In his life he wasn't meant to be happy. He wasn't supposed to be showed kindness. He was supposed to be treated like the dirt, like the trash you find at the corner of the roads. He was supposed to be unhappy. And he was supposed to be hated by others.

He shouldn't be allowed to breath in the fresh air. He was supposed to suffocate. Suffocate on his sins. Suffocate on the hate. Just…suffocate.

(Light's POV)

After cleaning up my arm and the mess, I put on a long sleeve sleeping shirt, knowing that it would hide the freshly made cuts. I could still feel the sting that came with each cut. It felt almost like a zinging on my arm, a buzzing feeling. At first I only did this to test it, but once I started cutting, I could never stop. So every night, well morning, I cut. Nobody is ever awake at this time so I'd never get caught.

Not that anybody would care anyway.

I make my way out of my bathroom and walk up to my shared room. I was grateful that my roommate, L or Ryuzaki which ever you wanted to call him, wasn't here at Wammy's at the moment but he would be returning later today. Which was a pain for me. I didn't really like him and he definitely didn't like me.

It was horrible being his roommate but Wammy refused to change our rooming. I guess he won't change it because I and Ryuzaki have been roommates for at least four years. Basically since I was 12 and when he was 14. We weren't always enemies though. We used to be friends, but something happened and we just… hated each other afterwards.

I don't know what happened. All I know is that something had happened and I had just loathed him afterwards. Maybe it was because he was the smartest between us. He was actually the smartest in the whole of Wammy's house, and I was a close second, but I would never actually be jealous or angered by this... The top five of Wammy's house stayed on one floor with Wammy of course.

I hated it though. L and the others were all emotionless bastards; okay not like I wasn't one myself, but they were worse than me. Okay maybe not Matt. He displayed more than all of us did. He was just a happy-go-lucky type of guy though. Unlike me.

I was a sad excuse for a human being and I had been told this many times. So many times I've actually lost count. And not only did I get those exact words but much worse, and with each bad word sprouted at me came a beating. So many times have I had to sit with a broken nose, a broken wrist, a chipped collar bone and a broken leg. And then there were all the bruises, the cuts and the scars.

Of course when you have to deal with getting beating on a daily bases, having words like that thrown at you on a daily bases, you get used to the pain. You get used to the mental trauma. You get used to all the things you shouldn't be used to. Not like anybody cares anyway. They're too busy thinking about themselves to even care about you and your pain.

I walk up to my bed and climb under the covers, hiding myself from the world.

Hiding from my pain.

A/N:

So, hi there! This is just the first chapter! Kinda short but the next chap should be long! Hopefully! Anyway... So how was the first chap? Boring? Stupid?

Should I continue?

Le gasp* I nearly forgot! I want to thank my buddy Xenj for helping me out with this chap! Your help was really appreciated!

Reviews are very much welcomed! They fuel the brain by the way!(Not really but I'd like to thinkso...)

Bye!